guards were not happy, but one jumped to open doors and clear the way. I looked back at my cell to see if Bis was still in there. Someone had tacked sunshine over the door. Ha, ha. "What time is it?" I asked Brooke as she waited for me to catch up. I felt as if I was a hundred and sixty years old, but the hope that I'd shortly be in Ivy's black tub full of hot water kept me moving.
The woman's low heels clicked as I followed her into the main building. "A little after three," she said, sniffing. "God, it stinks like bad sushi in here."
Most of the inmates we passed were either in bed or sitting on top of their covers waiting for lights out. A whisper went out like a wave among them as they saw us. If it was after three here, then it was after six at home. Take into account the difference in latitude, and the sun was indeed about to rise in Cincy. A quiver of anticipation shot through me, and I walked a little straighter. The lines in Cincy were about to close to summoning, though if you knew how, you could still jump them no matter what time of day it was.
A quick look up assured me Bis was still with me. He was crawling on the ceiling, and I could see him only when he went over a metal bar, his skin not adapting quite fast enough. When he was older, even that wouldn't show. He was a good kid.
The whispers grew to soft voices as word traveled from block to block. Alcatraz was kind of like a one-room schoolhouse. If something happened, everyone knew it in three minutes. I walked slowly to hide my pain, forcing my shoulders back and my head high as we entered the library, enclosed with a ceiling-to-floor fence. There was an oblong coffee table with several cast-off chairs around it in a cruel mimicry of a bookstore lounge. As luck would have it, I could see my empty cell, Mary, Charles, and Ralph. Mary looked shocked, her soulful eyes wide as she sat on her bed with her blanket pulled to her chin.
"This looks... comfortable," Brooke said dryly as she took off her coat, hesitating briefly before gingerly draping it over the grimy chair and sitting on it.
I looked at my equally dirty chair, knowing I wouldn't be able to get out of it once I was down. The promise of a soft cushion was irresistible, though, and I almost fell trying to sit without bending my knees. The jolt was enough to bring my eyes shut for an instant, and I gasped, taking in the scent of musty fabric and discarded books left to the elements.
"How pleasant," I said so she wouldn't see Bis crawl past the windows. "What do you want, Brooke?" I said, tired. If it was three here, it was six at home, and way past my bedtime.
She shifted, steepling her fingers and eying me from behind them. "They told me you didn't eat. Good. Don't eat anything unless it comes from me."
I uncrossed my arms from around my middle. "You know about the food?"
The woman smiled, showing me perfect teeth. "Isolating that amino acid is expensive, but we've been using it for centuries. It has an excellent success rate."
I thought of Mary starving herself for another thirty years, and I unclenched my jaw.
"Not everyone thinks you should be castrated," she said as she adjusted her skirt over her ugly knees. "Magically or otherwise. I'm your friend, Rachel. You should trust me."
Oh. Yeah. That's a good idea. I looked at the ceiling, not seeing Bis, then back to her. Damn Trent back to the Turn. This was his fault. Didn't tell them, my ass.
"I alone believe that you don't need such harsh treatment," she continued. "If you can invoke demon magic, you are - "
"A tool?" I interrupted. "A weapon? Have you ever fought a demon, Brooke? You were stupid to have risked it trying to catch me. The only reason I keep surviving demons is because they want me for other things."
I shut up, not wanting to hurt my case any more than I probably just had, but Brooke was smiling her West Coast smile. "I'm trying to help you, Rachel."
"Ms. Morgan, please." I flicked a bit of dried egg off myself, almost hitting her.
"Mor-r-r-rgan," Brooke drawled, bringing my attention back. "I don't want you to become